My Battleground
by Ziva Lou
Summary: She can't take it anymore...she can't stand living in her father's shadow any longer. Songfic 'My Vietnam' by P!nk, Oneshot, might turn Multi-Chap, T for language


**My Battleground**

**000**

**Disclaimer: not mine**

**This character recently caught my interest, and this song just fit so well with how I imagine her.**

**When words are **_italicized _**that means they are song lyrics. **Underlined **is a memory/flashback.**

**Please Review!**

**000**

She slipped out the window in the dead of night, dropping quietly onto the kitchen roof below. She made her way down to the ground, and crept away through the garden, the lessons of her youth running through her head.

_Daddy was a soldier,_

_He taught me about freedom,_

_Peace and all the great things_

_That we take advantage of._

"Daddy? What's this?" she raised her small hand to show her father the dusty metal object she had found in a box in the attic. It glinted dully in the afternoon light.

His face, usually cheerful and open, seemed to darken. "That's a medal. Remember the bad man I told you about, who killed a lot of people?" She nodded, watching how the pain and sorrow flashed through his brown eyes. "Everyone who fought on the Light Side during the Battle of Hogwarts received a Medal of Valor, for risking their lives and ending the war."

"Everyone got one?"

"Yes, even the people who were killed, like your Uncle Fred. Grandma was given both his medal and her own."

She frowned at the medal in her hand, trying to read the strange words carved around the edges. "Daddy, what does it say?"

"_Pro Solvo, Diligo, Quad Lux Lucis._ It means 'For The Free, The Loved, and The Light'."

_Once I fed the homeless,_

_I'll never forget,_

_The look upon their faces_

_As I treated them with respect._

"Hello," she smiled at the strange looking man. He was wearing what seemed to be old, dirty clothes and rags, his hair long, grey, and dirty, and he smelled funky.

He gave her a suspicious look. "'ello," he grunted, staring at her hair, up in two dark red pigtails. "Yer one of them Weasley kids, ain't cha? Related to that 'Arry Potter?"

"Yes," she nodded. "He's my Uncle Harry. Why?"

The man spat the ground by her feet. "Tell yer blasted Uncle 'Arry that Brian Keefe says that 'e was doing just fine before You-Know-'Oo was killed. I 'ad a 'ouse and ev'rything, and now lookit me. Wandrin' the streets of Diagon Ally without food or a place ta sleep." He spat again.

She nodded politely, seething inside. "I'll pass on your message, and I'm sure Uncle Harry or Aunt Hermione will do something to help."

The man gave her a strange look, unused to such respect. But her family had taught her well: everyone deserves a chance.

_This is my Vietnam._

_I'm at war._

_Life keeps on dropping bombs,_

_And I keep score._

"_What_?" she gasped.

"I'm sorry, but it's not working between us."

"You're…you're _breaking up _with me? But, Jack…"

"I just think we work better as friends than as a couple."

"That is bullshit, Jackson Wood! Complete and utter BULLSHIT! You like that Smith girl, don't you?"

"I –"

"DON'T YOU?"

"If you would just –"

"Just because I don't have huge boobs and blonde hair and blue eyes…!"

"That's not –"

"Leave me alone, Jack! You're such an arsehole!"

_Momma was a lunatic._

_She liked to push my buttons._

_She said I wasn't good enough,_

_But I guess I wasn't trying._

Her mother was yelling at her again, complaining about how she couldn't be more like her brother, how she just had to act so childish all the time, how she never did well in school.

"I swear to God, child, if you had an _ounce_ of your brother's common sense…!"

She knew by know not to interrupt her mother when she was yelling. The punishment would be worse and the yelling would drag on another fifteen minutes or so.

_Never liked school that much,_

_They tried to teach me better._

_But I just wasn't hearing it because,_

_I thought I was already pretty clever._

"Miss Weasley," Professor Flitwick said as he paused by her desk, "May I ask why you aren't practicing the spell with the rest of the class?"

"Well, Professor, I decided that I don't need to know how to do a Cheering Charm. I've always been able to cheer people up without it before, so I don't see why I would ever need to use a spell that can do the same thing as some hot chocolate and a few funny stories."

"This spell will show up on your OWL exam, though!"

"Guess I'll just have to do well on the written exam, then."

"Detention, Miss Weasley, for having a smart mouth!"

_This is my Vietnam._

_I'm at war._

_Life keeps on dropping bombs,_

_And I keep score._

"Go away, Rose," she grumbled at her annoying cousin.

"No." Ron's daughter had inherited his stubbornness.

"Rose! Will you please leave me alone!"

"No! I can tell when you're upset, and –"

"I'm only upset because A) my annoying little cousin is following me around, and B) I think those chocolates I got this morning were not from my boyfriend, but from an ex, because I feel a little sick!"

"Need a bucket?"

"Yes!"

_This is my Vietnam._

_I'm at war._

_They keep on dropping bombs,_

_And I keep score._

"Miss Weasley, you haven't qualified to take NEWT-level Potions. I'm sorry, but you must leave."

"But, Professor, Potions was one of the only classes I was trying in for my OWL's! Please, at least let me sit in on the class! This is my free period, and I promise I won't disrupt the lesson or anything."

"Well, so long as you don't try actually brewing anything we learn in here without proper supervision, I suppose it wouldn't hurt for you to watch and listen…"

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!"

_What do you expect from me?_

_What am I not giving you?_

_What could I do for you_

_To make me okay in your eyes?_

"Peter, what…?" she watched as her boyfriend looked at her sadly.

"I think…we should break up."

"Peter, please!"

"I just…I don't like you anymore. I'm sorry."

"But…"

"I've been doing a lot of thinking lately, and I, er, discovered something startling about myself."

"Which is?"

"I don't like you because, well…I don't like girls."

"Oh, just what every girl wants to hear! She turned her boyfriend gay!"

"It's not –"

"Leave me alone, Peter! I don't want to talk to you!"

_This is my Vietnam._

_I'm at war._

_They keep on dropping bombs,_

_And I keep score._

She took a deep breath, thinking about what she had learned over the years.

Lesson One: Bravery and Freedom will reward you, even if the cost is high.

Lesson Two: A little kindness and respect can go a long way.

Lesson Three: Teenage boys are shallow and cruel.

Lesson Four: Always know when to shut up.

Lesson Five: A smart mouth can land you in trouble.

Lesson Six: As annoying as they can be, a good family member will conjure up a bucket and hold your hair back when you're throwing up the bad chocolate an ex sent you.

Lesson Seven: Quick thinking and a little begging can get you what you want.

Lesson Eight: Besides being shallow and cruel, teenage boys can also insult you in the worst way possible by telling you that you turned them gay.

_This is my Vietnam._

_I'm at war._

_Life keeps on dropping bombs,_

_And I keep score._

She took one last look back at the home she had grown up in. "I'm sorry," she whispered, mostly to herself and to her sleeping father. "I need to do this."

_This is my Vietnam._

She walked until she crossed the ward boundaries. Pulling out her wand, she closed her eyes and concentrated on her destination: America, where rumors of a rising Dark Lord were worrying the US Wizarding population. She was tired of living under the shadows of glory her mother, father, aunts and uncles all possessed. She wanted to do something to prove to bother herself and everyone else that she was so much more than her father's daughter.

_This is my Vietnam._

With a sharp crack, Roxanne Weasley vanished.

**000**

**I'm toying with the idea of expanding this, making it a multi-chapter story, but I'm not sure.**

**Tell me what you think!**


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